


The Sapphire Dragon and her Rider

by Ph03n1xR151ng



Category: Inheritance Cycle, Lord of the Rings - Fandom, The Hobbit
Genre: Aragorn's trademark sigh of depression, Badass!Eragon, Badass!Saphira, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Het Relationship, Crack Taken Seriously, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Eowyn is my queen, Eragon goes to Middle Earth, Eragon is OP, F/M, Gay Sex, Gimli is a bear and you know it, Hair Braiding, Hair-pulling, Het and Slash, How Do I Tag, I just can't tag, Kinky sex, M/M, Oblivious!Legolas, Pansexual!Eragon, Pansexual!Legolas, Rated M in later chapters, Sex, So is Bilbo, Thorin is so done, Why isn't that a tag?, androgynous character, badass!bilbo, dragons are weird, it should be, like uber OP, most of this fic is actually serious, no regrets, so is Thorin and Bilbo is into it, twink boutta pounce, what have I done?, why do I write these characters so slutty?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22346644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ph03n1xR151ng/pseuds/Ph03n1xR151ng
Summary: Eragon and Saphira end up in Middle Earth. That's it. that's the story.Forty years after the fall of Galbatorix, Eragon and Saphira have arrived in Arda, bearing witness to the desolation that Smaug created. Eragon, drawn by a mysterious force, becomes a member of Thorin Oakenshield’s company, leading to discoveries that will change all that he thought Middle Earth to be. Saphira, meanwhile, encounters the wild dragon Smaug and begins to move on from her lost mate Fírnen... Adventure, romance and danger await them, with Eragon’s magical abilities being perhaps more powerful than any could imagine" " = normal speech' ' = Mental communication-memory- = memory
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Bilbo & Bofur, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Eragon Shadeslayer / Legolas Thranduillion, Saphira & Eragon Shadeslayer (Inheritance Cycle), Saphira / Smaug, Éowyn/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 75





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, 
> 
> this was originally going to be posted on Fanfiction.Net but technical difficulties arose. will still continue to post to FF.Net

The wings of the great blue dragon carved through the air, the wind whistling sharply, keening as sharply as an arrow through the morning mists of the valley. The dragon, a most striking shade of sapphire blue, roared, her rider screaming in exhilaration.   
The rider, a male, posed a striking figure against the grey of the mist and the blue of the scales of his life partner. Long, dark brown hair flew behind him, trailing ends of blond. Pointed ears, decorated with pierced studs, framed a young face. Sharp cheekbones and an aristocrat’s nose sat elegantly above plush pink lips. His jaw, square and masculine, was dusted with a perfect shadow of stubble. Eyes, the colour of mahogany, shone with the light of the sunrise. This man, half elf half mortal, was Eragon Shadeslayer, the dragon, Saphira Bjartskular. The exiles of Alagaësia.


	2. Chapter 1: Radagast doesn't have a good day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saphira and Eragon begin their journey into Middle Earth and Radagast receives some not-so-good news

Their early morning flight, a tradition they had created after the defeat of Galbatorix, and their subsequent departure to unknown lands, drew to an end when they were once again flying over their camp. The ground shuddered as the blue dragon, now behemoth in size, taller than the towering pine trees surrounding them, landed. Her deep claws gouged furrows in the earth, as deep as Eragon was tall.   
‘Shall we move on? I saw a single peak in the distance, I wish to see it. There is a strange scent in the air… I think there may be wild dragons in this land’ Saphira’s voice, elegant and musical, rang through Eragon’s mind, the feeling familiar and comforting.  
The rider considered her thoughts, all the while unbuckling the saddlebags from the saddle that protected him from the sharp scales beneath. Eragon, his hair windswept and eyes bright, smiled and spoke, his thoughts echoing Saphira’s curiosity.   
‘I agree. I sensed a strange energy from the mountain… Almost like Aren’   
The half elf swung gracefully out of the saddle, leather bags in his hand. With graceful dexterity he leapt from her shoulder to the ground below, a fall that would injure any who did not have the magic of dragons flowing through their veins.   
Upon landing, Eragon quickly moved around their camp, gathering his sparse belongings and pouring dirt onto the now smouldering remains of the firepit. Saphira watched her partner-of-mind-and-soul with amusement, likening his actions to the scurrying of squirrels gathering food for the winter. Eragon, always privy to her thoughts, was not amused and huffed out a sigh, a sigh of resignation that Saphira could see right through to the mild amusement he felt underneath.   
‘If I am a squirrel, what does that make you? I seem to remember you being insulted the last time I likened you to another animal… What was it? Oh, yes! A crow. You seem to like collecting shiny things, Saphira.. Should I be concerned that you will trade me away for some gold?’  
His comment drew a huff from the dragon, who brought her head down to his height and proceeded to scare the living shit out of him, when he turned around, bags packed and ready to depart, to see her sharp teeth, easily the length of Brisingr (which sat in its sheath on Eragon’s hip), barely an inch from his face.   
‘I am insulted you would think I would do that, Eragon. Best you don’t make such comments. You are my soul, Eragon. I would not trade you for anything’   
Eragon, who had jumped three feet when suddenly faced with Saphira’s deadly maw, felt the mirth drain from his face. Sincerity replaced it, echoing in his words, spoken out loud and in his thoughts.  
‘I know, Saphira.. I was only playing. Let’s go then, shall we?’ He asked, whilst caressing her large jaw and pressing his forehead to her snout, his hair and clothes ruffling with each one of her immense breaths.   
‘Let’s go.. I saw a herd of deer about two leagues from here and I am hungry.’ Her words were accompanied by a recent memory of several deer, drinking from a stream in the depths of the forest.  
Eragon smiled and moved towards her foreleg, strong hands grasping the rippling scales as he climbed up to perch in the saddle at the base of her neck. Strapping the saddlebags to the back of the saddle, Eragon prepared for the inevitable earthquake feeling that accompanied riding such an immense creature. Saphira’s wings, so great in size they shrouded the large clearing in a dark shadow, unfurled and stretched, before heaving downwards as she pushed herself off the ground. The rolling of her shoulders caused Eragon to experience a rolling motion not dissimilar to that of a boat on a stormy sea. Her powerful hind legs pushed her into the air, and she seemed to falter as her wings suddenly caught the air and she rose swiftly and steadily.   
Soaring above the ground, gliding on immense wings, was an experience Eragon could akin to no other feeling. The feelings of pure joy and elation were still as fresh as that first fated flight above the Spine. Flying towards the lonely peak far in the distance, Eragon closed his eyes as he savoured the feeling of the freezing air on his cheeks. Saphira, sharing his elation, let out a plume of fire nearly sixty feet high into the brisk morning air, startling the surrounding birds into flight. Gaining height, the two of them flew into the clouds, both enjoying the sight of Saphira’s scales glimmering from the moisture of the clouds forming beads of water that glittered like polished diamonds. 

Meanwhile, deep in the forests of Mirkwood, the brown wizard skittered about his woodland home, worrying himself over the terrifying news that he had gleamed from a raven. A new foe was heading in the direction of Middle Earth. A dragon that towered over the trees and hills, talons big enough to clutch an Elephaunt and still fly, powerful wings that brought shadow and fear to the ground below. Fire so hot it burnt blue, a tail that could sweep armies of the face of the battlefield and scales the size of Gondor shields that gleamed a deep sapphire blue.   
And of the sorcerer whose magic defied the powers of even the white wizard himself.


	3. Chapter 2: Radagast needs a holiday and Gandalf has high blood pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Radagast and Gandalf meet to discuss the blue dragon. Saphira and Eragon make a startling discovery and first glimpse an inhabitant of Middle Earth, which will lead to many things, good and bad, for the pair.
> 
> Gandalf goes awandering and finds something he thought he would never see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – Sorry for the late night update… had to accompany my father to work and started it at 0500 this morning.. 14 hour working days are brutal.. here is said promised chapter, in which our story continues. Now, for all you die-hard LotR fans, I have taken several liberties with the lore regarding Middle Earth, as most fanfiction authors are prone to doing. I just wanted to let you guys know that I have not read the books since I was around ten or eleven, and at the moment most of the LotR lore will be based off the movies. I apologise for this, but due to my current financial state as a broke Uni student, the chances of me getting those books and then basing this story off them is a little out of reach. Please understand that I will try my hardest to maintain as much of Tolkien’s original ideas, but as this is a crossover and including characters that are both from other novels and completely different to their characterisation in their books/movies, expect some minor and major differences in the characterisation of these individuals.

Shadowfax, lord of all horses, raced along the line of trees that edged the forest of Greenwood. Gandalf the grey sat on his back, urging Shadowfax onward with all the haste he could muster from the pure white steed.   
Gandalf had received an urgent summons to the woodland home of Radagast the Brown, one of his most trusted of friends. Radagast’s urgency in his message only made Gandalf more concerned for no doubt the inevitable bad news the Brown Wizard would have to discuss with him.   
Shadowfax, heaving great breathes that billowed out into the evening air in bursts of white steam, streaked across the plains that still lay before them in their travels. Gandalf’s body ached with the pain of riding for more than three days straight. Shadowfax, ever loyal to the Grey wizard, pushed on, whilst showing signs of exhaustion himself. The thundering of hooves preceded the pair, echoing through the forest and over lush golden plains.   
The wind whistled in Gandalf’s ears, continually lending the piercing coldness that made them feel painfully numb.   
The edge of the forest neared, and Shadowfax slowed, cantering to a stop at the edge of the woods. Gandalf gathered his staff and dismounted, enjoying the feeling of solid earth beneath his feet once again. He turned and stroked Shadowfax’s sweat-slick side, wicking away the salt water. Shadowfax turned and nuzzled Gandalf’s shoulder, closing his eyes as Gandalf did the same.  
“I thank you once again, my friend. You have done me a great service and if you are ever in need, I will gladly assist you”, Gandalf whispered, to which the great horse whickered and turned his head, brushing his nose against Gandalf’s cheek before trotting away, back the way they came so urgently before, his white form ghostly in the ever darkening light.   
Gandalf, his moment of peace now gone, bundled himself into the woods nearby, following the dirt path leading to the other wizard’s small cottage. Before he had made it very far, however, a familiar figure emerged from the scrub, his hair and beard wild and robes dirtied at the hems.   
“Radagast! I wish that our meeting was not to discuss such dark thoughts.. but alas, fate has other intentions.. Now tell me, what has you all flustered?” Gandalf spoke softly as he approached the other wizard and greeted him with a short embrace, before Radagast could work himself into a panic.  
“Oh Gandalf! Its terrible news! A raven from beyond the iron hills carried a warning of a great blue dragon approaching the Lonely Mountain.. Gandalf! There was also news that an incredibly powerful sorcerer rode the great beast and demonstrated powers beyond any that I know of!” Radagast’s whispy voice came out in pants, his hands worrying the hems of the long sleeves of his robe.  
“A dragon, you say? Has there been any word on Smaug the Terrible? Has he become active to warrant the attention of another great Wyrm? And what of this sorcerer, Radagast? Surely if his powers are so great then he must be aware that the dwarves of the Iron Hills are aware of him.. Perhaps I am to travel to the Halls of Lord Dain to discuss a possible attack” Gandalf thought out loud, garnering an even more intensely worried look from the other wizard.  
Radagast, whilst listening to Gandalf’s mutterings, had sat down to rest on a boulder nearby, gesturing for Gandalf to do the same. The weary Grey wizard marched over to the stone and sat as well, leaning his great wooden staff against a nearby tree.   
“Do the kingdoms of elves and Men know? Surely Thranduil would also be aware of this, given his history with the Fire Drakes of the past?”, At Radagast’s shaking head, Gandalf directed his next words, “Send word to Thranduil, would you Radagast? I will travel to the Iron Hills, where I will remain until I am certain there is no threat. For now, I think it best that the realms of Men do not discover this unsettling news.. I am certain that Saruman is already aware of these events and I will reconvene with him once I return” Gandalf spoke with force, once again on his feet and preparing once again to travel.  
Radagast also stood and made haste to the wooden sled that sat a few feet off the path and ordered the large rabbits to action, surging forward as they picked up speed and whisked the eccentric wizard away, towards the court of King Thranduil. Gandalf strode towards the edge of the forest, peering towards the lonely peak in the distance and considered the fastest path to his destination, all the while worrying his lower lip in would could have been interpreted as trepidation and even hints of fear.

Saphira dove through the cloud bank, startling a flock of geese that flew below her, twisting through the air in a series of movements that would cause sickness to any individual who did not bear both experience and magic to ease the uncomfortable feeling of flying in such ways. Eragon, eyes wide and glistening like marbles in the light of the sunset, peering at the sheer majesty of the fast approaching mountain peak. Saphira let loose a bolt of fire, nearly catching an errant goose in the blue trails of fire.   
‘Saphira, I think it would be best if we be a little more subtle. I can feel sentient lifeforms nearby… wait! Can you feel that? It feels like…’ Eragon’s attempt at a telling-off to the dragon’s apparent disregard for their anonymity trailed to a halt when the familiar yet completely new feeling of an immense mind trailed across his mental barriers.  
‘Eragon! Another dragon is here!’ Saphira’s excitement became boundless as she loosened a deafening roar that vibrated through Eragon’s spine and partially deafened him for more moments than he would care to admit.   
“Let’s go!” Eragon shouted over the wind, momentarily lapsing into the spoken word in his dizzying excitement.   
Saphira tucked her wings close to her body and dove through the air, reminiscent of a peregrine falcon. The ground rushed towards them as Eragon’s eyes watered, leading to him muttering a small spell to divert the wind around his head, offering him an opportunity to clear his eyes and peer at the ground when Saphira suddenly splayed her wings, the vast amount of membrane catching the air and slowing their descend with a loud booming sound. The sun, now below the horizon, shone its final rays on Saphira’s magnificent form before the night swallowed the land. None of the occupants of the nearby village of Laketown had seen this occurring, due to the inhabitants’ rush to beat the icy night air and get home to their waiting families.   
Eragon and Saphira used their combined power to stretch their minds deep into the depths of the mountain, whilst landing at the base of the snowy slopes. The response to their mental quest answered in an echoing boom in their minds, the mind of the Greatest and Chief of Calamities reaching out to them even in slumber. Saphira, elated at the presence of another of her kind, felt her enthusiasm wane at the fact that the red dragon slumbered on, his mind blank apart from the barest hints of dreams.   
The great dragon was not yet meant to wake, it seemed. And no amount of mental power could shake the claws of unconsciousness that had dug deep into the dragon’s consciousness.  
Although at this time, it was for the best that the beast remained trapped in his dreams, as his awakening would spell the end for many thousands upon thousands of lives.   
‘Saphira, my love.. I am sorry…’ Eragon’s heart went out to the blue dragon, his elated feelings numbed by the realisation that they could indeed be alone in this world after all..  
‘Do not apologise, Eragon. It was not your fault.. perhaps we shall try again, in the morning?’ Saphira whispered in his mind, her sadness and crushed spirits apparent.  
Eragon sent her feelings of affirmation as he leapt down to the ground, looking around the slopes for a suitable place for them to camp. Towards the treeline, he found such a place, ideal for both its closeness to a stream and the slight plateau it created, making a perfect area for Saphira to sleep comfortably.   
Said dragon curled around herself, lowering her behemoth head to the ground so that Eragon could nestle himself between her jawbone and her neck, Saphira folding herself in a protective cocoon around the man.  
The two were silent for a long time, Eragon whispering spells to ensure that they would go unnoticed and protected by way of powerful wards surrounding the both of them.   
The sounds of the night, coos from owls, distant wolf howls and the chattering of bugs lured the both of them to sleep, the last thing Eragon remembering before he entered the realm of dreams was the quiet whisper of Saphira’s voice;  
‘Sleep well, little one. I love you’ 

The two awoke well into the morning, the sun bearing down on them and drawing a single bead of sweat to Eragon’s forehead, for the air under Saphira’s wing, whilst warm during the night, had quickly become stifling. Tapping the guilty appendage and hearing a groan from Saphira in answer, the blue membrane was shifted to reveal the blue skies, green trees and grey stone of their surroundings.

And also, the grey-cloaked old man standing at the edge of the plateau, just out of range of Eragon’s wards, staring intently at the spectacle before him with barely contained awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that marks the end of this chapter, three word document pages and 1610 words.. hope this pleases you guys, as one of the things I am trying to improve upon is chapter lengthening 😊


	4. Chapter 3: Saphira is an Icon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf and the Dragon/rider duo finally talk.. and Saphira May or may not be a bit of a Badass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n - hey! So regarding the wacko formatting that’s been happening, I think I have found a way to stop it from happening in future chapters, but if it does continue to happen, please be patient and I will sort it out. To my lovely readers, I was so happy this morning to see that this fic has gained over a hundred views and five follows! I am so happy that I’ve made you guys happy enough to add my story to your favourites list!

Now when you come across an immense ball of blue scales barely a league from a large village and the current home of one Smaug the Terrible, the obvious reactions of a sane person would probably be as follows: surprise, shock, awe and then a sudden urge to flee to a minimum distance of, let’s say, 1000 leagues. 

Obviously, Gandalf was not a sane person. 

Gandalf had, during the night, left the halls of Dain at the word of a scout who had seen the great blue beast, felt the powerful gusts of winds that followed a down stroke of its immense wings. The scout had raced on goat-back across the countryside in a matter of hours, terrified out of his mind. 

Gandalf had hurried to the mountain on a horse, one of few big enough to carry a full sized person, he had basically stolen before rushing off. 

It would probably have been six hours of travel before he made it to the peak, his mount heaving great rattling breathes and mouth foamy with copious amounts of white froth. He had stopped several times but the last hour he’d driven the horse to near breaking point, such was his desperation to see with his own eyes the likely evil that had saw fit to enter Arda. 

The trees lining the forest were large and twisted, giving a haunted look to the forests surrounding the slope of the rear of the mountain. So far it seemed that Smaug had not woken, bringing great relief to Gandalf’s heavy heart. 

As he neared the mountains treacherous slopes, the forest gave way to the barren slopes of rock and ice. What sparse trees that grew had been knocked over, deep trenches carved into the ground, indicative of deadly talons, not doubt belonging to the blue dragon. 

As the morning rays of the sun crested over the landscape, a flicker of intense blue light shone in Gandalf’s weary eyes and he urged his horse onward.   
Over the small slope, hidden from sight, was a sight that Gandalf had been both dreading and anticipating. The blue behemoth was so immense that he had trouble deciphering the scale of the dragon below him. He guessed that the dragon’s eyes would be as big as he is tall, and it’s maw could easily swallow a horse in one bite.   
It was a striking shade of blue, the hues changing across its hide. Ranging from midnight blue, starting at the base of it’s spine to the tip of its coiled tail; to an almost teal colour on its mostly hidden underside. Highlights of this colour emphasised the jaw and wings, whilst the rest of it’s body was as bright a blue as the sky or the shining blue of the coastal waters. It’s scales did nothing to hide it on the ground, but Gandalf imagined that once it was airborne, you would be hard pressed to see it coming and completely impossible to find from a greater distance than a league or so. 

Gandalf dismounted and carefully made his way forward, stepping onto the natural plateau the dragon was currently slumbering on. Before he made it to close however, the wizard stopped, for he felt the presence of an immense magical barrier, stopping him in his tracks. The sheer amount of power contained in the now confirmed sorcerers spell was mind blowing, feeling as unshakable as any mountain and had the potential to be as wrathful as a hurricane on the high seas. So breathtaking was this epiphany that he stood for many a minute, nearly a whole hour, flabbergasted at the creatures before him.   
Gandalf reached out with his mind and brushed the conscience of the beast, before his mind caused the beast to stir, however, he sensed the presence of the sorcerer. He appeared to be curled up within the dragons clutches, hidden from sight. His mind, as was the dragon’s, was protected with vast mental barriers. These barriers withheld against all of the mental probes he sent, and alas his attempts at gleaming the... man’s?... intentions were laughingly and pathetically blocked. 

Of course, his actions had not gone without consequences, as his searching had brought their slumber to an end. Gandalf stood with his staff at the ready, preparing to do battle, as the wing of the creature moved to reveal the lithe body of what appeared to be an elf at a first glance.   
The sorcerer had long flowing hair and a dusting of a beard across his cheeks. As he stood, he looked around in content before he made eye contact with the wizard, light blue eyes meeting the golden brown ones of the man before him.   
Surprise overtook his features and as soon as the man had seen Gandalf, the dragon had stirred quickly and swung its immense head forward to face him. Large slitted pupils contracted in the glare of the morning light, pinning Gandalf to his spot with the intensity and intelligence held in those dark sapphire orbs. A threatening growl, echoing through the air and through the earth, startled Gandalf from his eye contact with the beast, once again his gaze focussing on the mahogany orbs of the not-elf standing on the dragon’s foreleg. 

“I ask of you your name and your intentions in this land” Gandalf’s voice rang through the alarmed silence, his voice holding an air of command. 

The sorcerer and dragon both blinked at precisely the same time, a look of astonishment somehow being expressed on not only the man’s but also the dragon’s face. 

The man hesitated before answering him, a lyrical and husky voice, with an exotic accent, flowing smoothly from his throat. 

“I am Eragon Bromsson, Shadeslayer and Kingkiller. This is Saphira Bjartskular, She-of-the-Bright-Scales. We are travellers from Alagaesia.. would I be correct in assuming that you do not have Dragon Riders in this land? We mean you no harm, we are merely exploring and searching for Saphira’s kin.”   
As the stranger spoke, Gandalf felt the brushes of another mind against his, prompting him to quickly throw up mental barriers. A huff from the dragon, a rattling and frankly unnerving sound, preceded the dragon’s movements, as the now known female dragon stood, her giant mass quickly swamping the area in a deep shadow, Eragon remaining on the ground, seemingly unconcerned about the deadly creature’s movement.   
The feeling of another presence once again pressed against his mind, battling and worming its way in between the barriers until it had but a glimpse of his memories before a booming but gentle female voice spoke, the harmonious voice almost sounding as if more than one person spoke, several voices layered into one.   
‘And what is your name, Grey-one? Although we are foreign to this land, we are still owed courtesy and respect. Now, speak, before I grow hungry enough to eat you’ 

Gandalf started, the shock being quickly overtaken with fear at the power behind the voice.   
Startled, wide eyes darted to the dragon, who was lowering her head to Gandalf’s eye level and staring unnervingly into his very soul. 

“W-was that.. her? In here?”, Gandalf tapped his finger against his temple, directing the question at Eragon, who’s face showed both hesitation and amusement at the actions of the dragon. 

“Yes. Saphira can speak for herself. And as she said.. you have not extended the same curtesy that we have to you. You know our names but we have you to know yours.” Eragon’s voice turned hard towards the end of his sentence, his hand reaching towards his hip, where sat a gleaming blue sword, which emitted a strange energy from the sapphire gem set into the pommel. 

“Apologies, I had to acertain you were not a threat to myself or the other inhabitants of this land. I am Gandalf and I sense you were honest with your intentions. You can speak with her like she spoke to me? And before, you mentioned.. Dragon Riders? I have never heard of that title.. are you apart of a race or is it a title earned? I’m afraid you have only brought more questions to my mind..” Gandalf spoke swiftly, lowering his staff to relax his arm slightly, all the while observing the pair. 

The Dragon Rider, apparently a great warrior, wore tight fitting black leather breaches and a loose flowing black shirt. A black leather coat, reaching his knees, hooded and lined with wolf skin, obviously used to shield against the harsh winds one experienced whilst flying, sat on muscled shoulders, sleeveless. In place of sleeves, leather bracers and archery armguards sat, showing that whilst Eragon appeared unarmed except for the sword at his side, he was adept in the use of a bow. A quick glance at the saddle that sat, almost unnoticed, on Saphira’s back proved Gandalf’s hunch to be correct, as a beautiful bow sat strapped to the back of the saddle. 

“Would you care to sit? I must prepare breakfast and Saphira must hunt again before we leave. I can prepare something for you as well.” 

Gandalf nodded, the prospect of food, after nearly two days without it, made him sit on a nearby boulder as Eragon retrieved his gear from Saphira’s saddle.   
The bow that Gandalf had seen accompanied him as he bade them both short farewell and strode to the nearby stream where he stood, unnaturally still, on long, muscled legs. His bow now strung and pointing a slim arrow at the water, which contained a few small fish. 

Saphira, now unburdened by the saddlebags, took off. The thunder of her wings causing great gusts that buffeted both Gandalf and Eragon, who proceeded to put the bow down and elegantly braid his hair, finishing exceedingly quickly and tying a leather strip around the braid that now hung down his spine and sat in the dip of his lower back.


	5. IMPORTANT NOTICE

Hey guys,

So, 'tis I, the author, the togethersmasher of words!

So, my Uni classes start up again in about a month's time and I have been running around trying to get the textbooks that I need (already spent AUD300+ on two alone D: ahh), So I have made to decision to update once a week (Fridays 1800 Queensland AUS time). DO NOT DESPAIR! I will endeavour to maintain this schedule regardless of other commitments.

Regarding my week-long absence, due to Rise of Skywalker absolutely destroying my heart and then binge-watching The Mandalorian to try and gain some happiness regarding the current quality of Star Wars media.. God, I miss the Clone Wars series.. And then having an alter take over my headspace for nearly four days, meaning I lost A LOT of time.. I had a pretty messed up week.

I would like to thank my readers, who are absolutely amazing! AHH so many Kudos!

Thank you all!

See you next update time (possibly in two days time),

Skylar


	6. Chapter 4: Saphira makes a friend and Gandalf gets an ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Heya! Here’s the promised chapter! I have made the assumption that Gandalf was a witness to Smaug’s claiming of Erebor… I have no idea if this is true but bear with me if its not. It is minorly important to the plot and the flow of the chapter. Also, I should mention I wrote this drunk and it’s un-betaed… We die like men, I suppose :P

Saphira was… upon arriving in the new lands, a bit paranoid when it came to both meeting strangers, and then trusting them enough to not harm her Rider whilst she wasn’t there to defend him. The old man, who smelled of tobacco, horse, magic and immortality (which when she is asked to describe, is a subtle but iconic smell… she claims it to be like the smell newborns carry, but charged with the power of ozone and earth… overall, not one that occurs very often indeed) was someone who Saphira had very quickly deemed powerful enough to be a major threat, however, his mind was clear of all malicious thoughts other than the protection of the other sentient life that made their home upon this land.

Whilst the Grey-Hair-Two-Legs-Round-Ears was speaking to her Soulmate, her mind had burrowed past his mental shields to discover what she could about the land. His vast mind would be incomprehensible to all but few, such as elves or Riders, but to a dragon of her strength, his mind appeared as simple as that of a barn-owl.

The images that the old one was thinking, whilst his mind was distracted with the conversation between Eragon and himself, were full of fire, scorching winds and the deaths of many innocents. Memories flashed before her mental eyes, showing why his distrust of her was very well placed.

-A dragon the colour of the sunset, liquid fire surging beneath his scales, stood before the mountain. Flames like immense forests blazed all around, on what Saphira recognised as the very mountain they were camped on. Dwarves, adults and children alike, fleeing the mountain under the watchful eye of a tall dwarf with hair the colour of midnight and eyes as blue as her scales.

An army of beautiful, graceful statues stood, awaiting the command of their elven king, the king of the Greenwood. The magnificent elk stag that bore the platinum-haired elf was turned away by the elf, as was the army behind him. Leaving the dwarves below to die horrible deaths at the fire and claws of one of Saphira’s Wild-Kin. The hatred and despair bleeding from tear-shot blue eyes as the Prince of Durin’s Line stood and watched his people’s only hope of salvation turn away at the behest of a seemingly cowardly king.-

The dragon, who was now winding his way inside the immense gates of the mountain kingdom, let loose an earth-shaking, bone-rattling roar, a challenge all those that dared to face him. A challenge that had yet to be answered.

Saphira, now emerging from the old one’s mind and returning to the mind of her Little One, was pleased to find that the two magic users had made temporary peace with each other.

‘Why don’t you go and hunt? I know that you’re hungry and that you would like to go for a flight. I’ll be alright here. If anything seems suspicious, I’ll call you immediately’

Her Little One was retrieving her saddle and freeing her of the leather that protected him from her razor-sharp scales. His bow that he had received in Ellesméra clutched in his hand.

Readying herself for her flight, she nudged her nose affectionately against Eragon’s back, getting an emotional response of humour and adoration back through their bond.

Taking off, Saphira enjoyed the look of awe of Gandalf’s face, basking in the attention.

She steadily gained height and soon she was brushing the moist clouds with her wings.

Now, onto hunting!

The deer that roamed the surrounding area had all fled upon seeing her shadow the previous evening, but since she had not shown any indication of being their predator, they soon had returned to their normal grazing areas. The deer were plump and well-fed, in vast numbers due to Smaug’s slumber. Although, due to Smaug’s presence, she had to fly ten score leagues before she found a large enough herd to sate her appetite.

After the hunt was over and her stomach comfortably full, Saphira sat in a clearing, picking the pieces of deer carcass from between her teeth. Although the deer hides were not nearly as difficult as sheep’s wool, this task took her nearly three hours for her to complete in it’s entirety.

Saphira, comfortable in her surroundings, drew into her own mind and down the cords of her and her Rider’s bond and gazed through his, frankly pitiful compared to hers, eyes to see what had transpired in her absence on the plateau.

Eragon had quickly speared several fish with his bow in rapid succession and had pulled their slippery bodies from the water. There wasn’t a whole lot of meat on them, but they were enough for the two men to eat a substantial amount. The small fish were quickly fileted, gutted and placed upon a flat stone and Eragon placed his palm, the palm that carried the Gedwëy Ignasia, and muttered a quick incantation to heat the stone to the point where the meat began to sizzle. The energy that the spell drained wasn’t noticeable to the one who cast it, but the wizard nearby, who was watching Eragon whilst smoking his pipe, felt the sudden change in the flow of energy surrounding the half-elven, and tasted the trademark ozone taste in the air of the sorcerer using magic.

“How came you by these powers? Were you born with them? Does each spell require an energy transference?” Gandalf refrained from speaking the other countless questions that the subtle display of magic had arisen in his mind.

Eragon glanced over towards him and smiled. Used to questions, he happily answered.

“There is an energy transferal, but it depends on the incantation and the energy required. Like everything else in this world, you can’t create without giving, or in some cases, destroying. The access to magic came when I bonded with Saphira. I was… score and seven? Score and eight? Summers old. The war that I fought in came to a crux a few months after that. I was just a farmboy, living with my Uncle Garrow and my cousin Roran.”

Eragon felt at ease around the seemingly old man, feeling comfortable enough to share a part of his life.

These answers sated Gandalf’s curiosity, for the time being. His eyebrows were scrunched, and he continued to let his thoughts stew. The fish were done cooking, the oils bubbling from the red-hot centre of the stone. Eragon cut the energy flow to the spell off, the stone quickly fading back to a dull grey.

The two men ate swiftly and once they were finished, were happy to sit in silence. Eragon drew a pipe from his saddlebags, stuffed it with tobacco and lit it with a tiny spell, much to the amusement of the wizard beside him.

“It’s not often that I see an elf with a pipe” Gandalf commented dryly, a smirk on his face.

“I’m not actually an elf” Eragon responded, giggling at the look on the other mage’s face.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m only half elf. I was a human until midway through the war. In my homeland, the land of the elves, an immense forest called Ellesméra, was where the elves had a festival that celebrated the Dragon Riders, the Ancient Language and their history. Some of the elves have used magic to alter themselves and their very connection to the magic around them. Two elves, twins, called the Caretakers, summoned a dragon spirit and that spirit sped up the transformation that all the Dragon Riders go through after being bonded to a dragon. I, myself, will look fully elven in the next century or so due to this.” Eragon explained as he stood, cleaned up the remnants of their breakfast and once again sat down and drew his sword and whetstone, beginning to sharpen the rippled blue blade.

Gandalf, baffled at the answer Eragon gave him, was silent for a few minutes.

Then he spoke something that would change the course of Arda’s history forever.

“How would you like to go on an adventure? I won’t know when it shall be necessary for you to join me, but I have plans to liberate this mountain from the clutches of Smaug the Terrible and reunite the true king with his Kingdom. Would you and the Sapphire Lady care to remain in Arda until I call upon you? Gandalf inquired, gazing expectantly at the young face of the dragon Rider.

Eragon, who had known that Saphira was keeping tabs on their conversation the whole time, wordlessly asked her opinion. Saphira’s answer was basically Do as you wish.

“Alright. I will remain in the area. Send word to me and I will come as soon as I am able” The brunet responded, an excited gleam in his eye of finally encountering some adventure.

Saphira, meanwhile, had encountered a very unusual horse. The mare was a silky black and held itself proudly as it cantered right up to the blue dragon.

The horse then proceeded to do something that Saphira had never seen before. Approaching her muzzle, it blew hot air onto the side of her jaw and nuzzled the underside of it, where her scales were soft and small. The horse remained where it was for an immeasurable amount of time, maintaining eye contact with the behemoth dragon as she lowered herself to her knees and lay by Saphira’s head.

The dragon, sensing that the animal before her was not only fearless of her but held within its smarter-than-average mind a connection to magic almost as profound as Saphira’s herself, didn’t make any move to harm the midnight horse.

Saphira sensed this horse was very special, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: NEARLY AT THE HOBBIT! Next chapter will be more exciting I promise! Let me know how you felt about this chapter and don’t be afraid to comment below! Next chapter will be up next Friday. Thank you so much to my readers and especially the preciouses who have commented!


	7. Lord Elrond enter from stage left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Eyyyyy sorry about the wait..   
> Klaus Hargreeves is a precious bby who deserves better :/  
> Anyway! I wanted to say thankyou for waiting! But… I noticed that several reviews mentioned that people were wondering what female elf I would pair Eragon with……… This isn’t going to go the way you think……I am only going to focus on two het pairings and Eragon is in neither of them.. for those of you who just aren’t into Eragon having a male partner, please keep it to yourself or PM me and I will gladly explain this choice to you. Negative comments regarding this matter will not be accepted.. there won’t be any explicit M rated chapters in this version.. If any of you are interested in the explicit version of this story, it is freely available to read on Archive of Our Own under the same title, although it is at the same update and has the same content as this version, with the added lemony chapters.   
> On with the story!

Eragon and Saphira both sat watching the horse as it nosed around at Eragon’s belongings, both sharing a look of utter confusion at the presence of this horse.   
Gandalf had long since left, several days previous, and they had begun moving west towards the Shire, a region that Gandalf had spoken fondly of. The horse, a large Friesian with a glossy black coat and a long mane and tail that floated nearly to the ground, had been following them, somehow keeping up with Saphira in flight. The morning of the fourth day had began with them both waking up to the horse standing in the middle of their campsite, staring unafraid at the two.   
“You met this horse several days ago, yes? And it just… walked up to you?” Eragon asked out loud, his befuddlement clear to Saphira, who blew a plume of smoke out of her nostrils in mirth before answering:  
‘Yes Eragon’  
“And now it’s here?”  
‘That appears to be the truth.’   
“Huh.” Eragon shrugged.   
The horse’s mind had had no traces of malice.. just pure thoughts that had a typical air of innocence to them.   
Eragon stood and brushed his trousers to get rid of the pieces of grass that clung to the leather. He slowly approached the horse, his bare feet silent and his arm outstretched. The horse lifted it’s head to shake it’s mane and nickered softly, letting Eragon’s slim but deceivingly strong hand gently caress it’s soft nose. The horse suddenly stepped forward and butted it’s head against Eragon’s, nuzzling his loose hair and making Eragon laugh. Gripping the horse’s mane, he manoeuvred slowly to its side and cleanly mounted it, the horse not moving at all to show any unhappiness. Eragon was surprised, but quickly adjusted himself to comfortably sit on the mare’s back. He leant forward and whispered;  
“Fram, fricai”   
The horse’s ears pricked forward and surged forward, Eragon having to grip with his legs and wind his fingers into the mare’s mane to keep himself from rolling backwards off the horse. Saphira, who had been watching, snorted with amusement at the sight of Eragon flailing on the back of the galloping horse, already halfway across the rather large grassy field that sat between an immense mountain range and the nigh impenetrable forests of the Greenwood.   
Eragon had regained his balance and was now grinning from ear to ear as the horse flew across the field. Turning swiftly when they were reaching the edge of the forest, dirt flying from beneath the mare’s hooves. Eragon cheered and smiled, closing his eyes as the horse beneath him flew across the field back towards the camp and the sapphire dragon that lazily watched her rider enjoy himself.  
The black horse slowed and stopped, a windblown Eragon dismounted elegantly, laughing heartily. Stroking the mare’s side, he looked into the horse’s face, which had turned to look back at him.  
“Fricai, are you to join me in my adventures? What should I call you? Hmm… What about… Esterní?”  
At the sound of the name in the Ancient Language, the horse shook itself and reared.   
“Esterní it is” Eragon agreed as the horse nuzzled Eragon’s shoulder.   
Eragon looked back at Saphira, who was watching him with a fond expression, her thoughts filled with love.   
“Perhaps you can fly ahead and I shall stay on the ground? I will take Brisingr and my bow… I promise to call to you if I encounter any trouble”  
Saphira stared at her rider for a few long… awkward minutes before she acquiesced to his request,   
‘Oh alright, little one… but maybe you should take your boots too…’ Saphira looked toward where said boots sat innocently by the fire pit, now dry after Eragon slipped and fell inelegantly into a puddle during a bout of rain the previous evening… An action that had led to Saphira chortling and falling over from laughing so loudly, startling a flock of birds from the trees and knocking a few smaller trees over in the process.

Eragon sat astride Esterní, galloping towards the mountain range that was fast approaching in the distance. The flat plains were littered with rocks that jutted out of the ground. Saphira flew above the clouds above them, keeping a safe distance between herself and any upturned eyes.   
Eragon used neither saddle nor bridle, instead a single cord of rope wrapped loosely around Esterní’s thick neck. Her long mane and tail trailed out behind her, flowing like fluid in the wind, the silky black hair looking like silk. They had been riding for several hours now, Eragon enjoying this newfound freedom to explore the land.   
As Eragon was looking into the distance for a way to pass through the mountain range, he noticed a single rider in the distance, a tall figure upon an equally tall horse. As the rider approached, Eragon slowed his own mare down to a canter, a stride that made the horse pick up her legs and prance, her mane and tale bouncing.   
Several minutes passed before the rider was within a distance to see clearly, upon which time Eragon gazed upon the stranger and saw what he supposed was this land’s equivalent of an elf. The elf in question had a prominent brow and upon it sat a silver circlet. His eyes were a piercing slate grey and his face stern. The robes that flowed around him were a glimmering silver, adorned with various pieces of decorative armour that Eragon had no doubt in being able to protect him. The horse the visitor rode was an elegant and slender stallion, mahogany in colour with a flowing ebony mane and tail. A sword sat at the elf’s hip, and the elf in question had one hand resting upon it.  
The two riders stopped a few feet from one another, the other taking in Eragon’s strange appearance.   
“You are Eragon Shadeslayer, yes? Mithrandir sent word that you would be passing through. He has told me that you are trustworthy. Do I have your word that you are not an ally of evil?” The elf ordered, his voice strangely deep.  
“Yes, I am he. You have my word upon my life and soul that no danger or harm will befall you or your kinsmen.” Eragon spoke passionately, his voice firm and truthful.  
“Well then, if that is true, then I am Lord Elrond of Rivendale and I invite you into my home. Your… companion is also welcome if she does not cause any harm to my home or my people.”   
Said companion, the sapphire dragon that flew above the two in the clouds, had been watching from above, not feeling any concern in her soulmate’s mind nor his actions.  
‘Well… what do you think? Should we visit this… Rivendale?’  
‘I have nothing to say on the matter… I trust you to not make decisions that would cause us harm… And they may have mead, it has been far too long since I have indulged myself’   
Eragon smirked at her words, then proceeded to gesture for Lord Elrond to show them the way to the Last Homely House.   
Elrond nodded and turned his horse, Eragon proceeding to whisper to Esterní a request to follow the other horse. The black horse strode forward almost immediately, following the other horse happily.  
“How is it that you came by a Meiar steed?”   
“Meiar?”  
“That horse, is a Meiar… The lord of horses, Shadowfax, is their ruler… Very rare to even see one, let alone be allowed to ride one… To have one as a constant companion… Only Mithrandr has that honour…”  
Lord Elrond explained as they made their way across the plains towards a jut of rock that housed a cave entrance to a long tunnel that swallowed the worn path beneath their feet.   
“After you,” Elrond gestured kindly, “And welcome to my home”  
The two of them made their way through the tunnel, emerging from mouth on the other side, a view unlike any other awaiting them.  
Eragon gasped upon seeing the beauty of the land around them. The path was on a small ledge that dropped down over the lake beneath. The path was lined with trees that grew precariously upon the edge and acting as a natural barrier to the drop off edge. The lordly palace that stood proudly next to the waterfall looked as though the elves had sung the great castle from the marble around it. Large arches and graceful curves made the buildings look as though they were always there.   
The house of Lord Elrond could be compared to the natural beauty of Du WeldenVarden in a heartbeat. The stone of the buildings shone like a star in the midday sun, glimmering away merrily. The large swathes of sheer fabric that were used as curtains swayed in the gentle breeze.  
“It’s… beautiful”  
‘It is’ Saphira spoke as she dived and flared her wings above the large lake, her large wingspan casting an immense shadow above the house of Elrond.   
“Your companion…She’s incredible”   
Eragon turned and gazed at the elf, smirking at the look of utter awe on the lord’s face.  
“Yes… She is”

Once over their respective awe, the two of them made their way to the courtyard, which was filled with autumn leaves and an incredibly beautiful elven woman. Her dark eyes shone with wonder as she gazed at the sapphire dragon hovering above the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: yeah.. I started Uni last week… semester two out of six… ay carumba… I hate chemistry…  
> Anyway, I though you guys would appreciate an update, even though it probably isn’t as long as I would like it to be… To all my readers and reviewers, I really appreciate you guys! On another note… and it’s not as nice as I would like it to be… I shouldn’t have to mention that I do have a life outside this fic.. I am writing this for the joy of writing and furthering my skills… comments about how I didn’t post anything for a few weeks are… well… they aren’t necessary.. I know that I haven’t updated for a few weeks.. I don’t need a reminder… I have difficulty speaking and putting the words in my mind onto paper… It takes me a while to construct a sentence that I believe is correct… please keep this in mind, to all those who respect that, thank you so much..


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys.. How’s everybody? This coronavirus is real shit, eyy? You would think that me spending three months isolating and self-distancing would mean that I would get more of this fic typed up, right? NOOOOOPPPPPEEEE!

40 years later:  
Arwen sighed.  
Eragon, sitting next to her on the grass, glanced over at the elvish princess. The flowers that they were weaving into each other’s long tresses fell out of her elegant hands.   
“Is something the matter?” Eragon questioned, gathering the fallen flowers and placing them in her hair.   
“I believe my father is considering my travel to the Grey Havens… The time of elves and dwarves is nearing to an end… I…” Arwen trailed off.   
“Then perhaps you should make the most of your time. I’ve seen the way that young man looks at you… Perhaps you should follow your heart and enjoy what it offers?” Eragon answered.  
Eragon himself was draped over the soft green grass, his long limbs seemingly endless and clothed in tight leather breeches. His long hair, half pulled back in a braided top-knot, fluttered in the slight breeze.   
Eragon sighed and glanced at the Homely House from the field where they sat. As he watched, Lord Elrond and a troupe of elvish warriors rode on horseback to the hidden pass.   
“Hmmm… Where is you father off to?” Eragon inquired.  
Arwen turned and looked to where her father was slowly dwindling into the distance, a frown marring her graceful face.  
“I believe there are wargs sighted near the border this morning. Father wishes to ride out to meet them in battle.”  
Eragon continued to watch the figures of the horses until they were hidden by the cliffs and trees that hid the pass from their eyes.   
Saphira, resting on the shoreline, sliced her tail through the water, a wave of water crashing down on her body, making her scales gleam like sapphires in the midday sun. The gleaming scales refracted over the castle, shining diamonds of glimmering blue light over the pale stone. She spread her wings, the great blue swathes of the wing membranes cast a shadow over the meadow where Arwen and Eragon lazed. Arwen gazed at Saphira, her eyes sparkling with the same wonder they had shown forty years prior to that moment.  
Saphira folded her wings once again and puffed out a large billow of smoke from her nostrils, happy.   
As the sun began to lower, grazing the horizon, a fluster of movement caught Eragon’s eye. A small man, a hobbit, stood on the cliff walkway, gazing in awe at the immortal and otherworldly sight before him. The walls of Lord Elrond’s House glimmered and shone ethereally, lending to a sense of peace and utter tranquillity.   
What amused Eragon, however, was the fact that thirteen dwarves were following said hobbit.   
“Are those?... Dwarves?” Eragon whispers, his confusion so evident in his voice that Arwen snorted and then giggled before answering.  
“Apparently so…”   
Both of them stood, Eragon offering his arm to the elvish lady next to him and walked swiftly and elegantly towards the arched halls. 

Once the pair had made their way to the main hall, Arwen departed to her chambers, glancing at the son of Man as she strode by, a blush staining her cheeks.   
Eragon continued through the halls to where Lord Elrond was speaking to the dwarves. His body was fluid in its movements as he strode down the stairs, his white shirt undone, revealing a smooth and toned chest. His hand gripped the blue blade at his hip, the sapphire in its pommel gleaming with power.  
The dwarves, as usual to any group of dwarves, were arguing both with their host and themselves. they were, at least, until each member slowly became aware of Eragon. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the pointed ears and the even, yet short, beard that sat on his elegant face.  
“Lord Elrond. I see we have guests. Should I alert the kitchen to begin preparing fare for them to eat?” Eragon spoke, his voice fluid and smooth like honey.   
“An excellent idea, Lord Eragon. I was indeed about to send someone to do just that. Eragon, perhaps you could do so immediately?” Elrond’s response, and posture, was stern but beginning to relax.  
Eragon quickly reached out with his mind to the elves in the kitchen. used to this regular occurrence, the ellith in charge quickly responded, her mind’s voice a touch louder than that of Eragon’s.  
‘Yes, Eragon? What is it that you require?’  
‘There are thirteen dwarves and one hobbit that have arrived, along with Gandalf the Grey. If you would be so kind as to prepare a meal for them? I shall be there shortly to prepare the meat’ Eragon answered before withdrawing his mind back to its own body.  
“It is done, my lord. They shall begin immediately. Shall I escort our guests to their accommodation?” Eragon inquired, gazing at the group of startled dwarves and their shell-shocked hobbit.   
“That would be excellent, Eragon” Lord Elrond smiled.  
“Eragon Shadeslayer, we have not spoken in years. I seem to recall you owing me a bag of Old Toby, if I remember correctly, hmmm?” Gandalf mused, a grin threatening to emerge on his weathered face.  
“We’ll see, Gandalf, we’ll see” Eragon laughed, whilst gesturing to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield to follow him.   
Thorin and the rest of his group followed, albeit reluctantly. Excepting the hobbit. He quickly moved to the front of the group and strode along next to Eragon.  
“Hello sir, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Bilbo Baggins.” Whilst he spoke, he had extended his hand.   
Eragon stopped and leant down slightly, reaching out and gripping the hobbit’s hand in a firm handshake.   
“Well met, Master Bilbo! I am Eragon Shadeslayer, at your service”  
The dwarves, who had been following behind the two at a brisk pace, stopped suddenly as the both hobbit and elf stopped in the middle of the hallway.  
Groans and curses in Dwarvish, which was thankfully the same dialect as the Alagaesean Dwarves, rang out through the group at the sudden stop.  
“Come now! None of that grumbling! You shall soon be feasting on roast hart, freshly caught” Eragon spoke in the gnarling and gruff language of the dwarves, finding delight in the astonished faces of the dwarves.  
“You know our tongue?” Thorin spoke in Khudzil, his deep voice made even deeper by the change in languages.  
“Yes,” Eragon replied in the Common Tongue, “Now if you will follow me”  
Eragon once again strode off, his knee high boots hugging his calves and making his footsteps near undetectable, even to elvish ears.  
The befuddled dwarves and hobbit were soon brought to the balcony on which they would be dining with Lord Elrond, Gandalf, Lady Arwen and Eragon himself.   
The balcony offered a magnificent view of the ocean, the cliffs and one enormous blue dragon.  
When the dwarves realised that they were being observed by the large reptilian eyes of the sapphire beast below, their calls of outrage were loud and many. Armed as they were, the bowman off the group, a young dwarf with a scruffy beard and long dark brown hair, readied his bow, an arrow aiming at the glinting slitted eye that had rose to meet them.   
Saphira had stood, her immense size meaning that her great head was level with her rider, who wore a smug grin.   
The dwarves, frozen for a few moments, sprung to action. The dwarven king himself pulling the terrified halfling into a protective embrace.  
“What is that foul serpent doing here? Do you tree-shagging elves now deal with the forces of darkness?” Thorin’s voice boomed.  
“Calm yourself, Oakenshield. She will not harm you. This is Saphira Brightscales, my partner-of-soul-and-mind. Lower your weapons, and all shall be explained.”  
Eragon had turned to face the dwarves, the head of Saphira looming behind him and blocking the weakening rays of the setting sun. The image before the dwarves was one of power, them finally grasping that Eragon was not what they had believed him to be. He was something not of their known world. The shadows cast by Saphira’s snout shrouded Eragon in darkness, the only thing visible was the flash of the stone set in his ring, Aren, and the whites of his eyes.  
“So… I hear you are on a quest. May we join?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: GAHHH FINALLY THE STORY IS PROGRESSING!!!! So just a heads up, I plan on referring to Eragon as an elf, even tho he’s still technically still considered half human (and if I get a snarky review saying this, I’ll know someone isn’t reading these author notes 😊). Now.. I can’t promise that I will be updating more often now that social distancing and all this stuff is now our everyday norm, but I will try to not go on random hiatus… since all this coronavirus stuff has impacted my uni (bye bye practical exams), I’ll be working twice as hard to educate myself.  
> I hope all of you are safe and well-cared for. I hope that if any of you are going through this alone, that you have a strong network of family and friends there to support you. If any of you need to talk to somebody, feel free to message me. I may not be able to provide you with the answers you seek, but I will try to support you guys as much as I can. You guys hold a special place in my heart. You guys provide me with encouragement, advice and feedback on my works and honestly? That’s the reason why I decided to start again. To provide you guys with something that brings enjoyment and a chance to briefly escape the hectic life we now all live in. Stay safe, guys. Stay strong 😊


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